On basis of merit
by dodger-chan
Summary: Muraki spends some time with Tsuzuki. Muraki x Tsuzuki-ness, not very fun.
1. On basis of Merit

No, I've not forgotten about My harddrive died, taking all my stories with it, and I only got my new one up and running this weekend. So any sequels that were planned, will be at best delayed.

Now, as far as this story goes, all I can say is Muraki made me write it and wouldn't let me consider anything else until it was "done."The man is a harsh muse.

* * *

It had been terribly careless of the boy, leaving Tsuzuki alone like that. It was simply begging Muraki to intervene. Truly, not to involve himself would have been almost rude. And Muraki did not like to be rude. He smiled and lightly traced his finger around the lip of his wine glass. The evening had begun excellently. He and Tsuzuki had had one of those perfect chance encounters, arranged with a minimum of sacrifices and spells. The shinigami had been hostile, at first. Only at first, though. The most beautiful look of utter defeat had crossed those spectacular eyes and Tsuzuki had shrugged and permitted Muraki to accompany him to this rather low class bar.

Muraki glanced up at his surroundings and suppressed a sneer. Watching Tsuzuki drink for the past hour had not been enjoyable. The night had started with far more promise than that. And the promise _would_ be fulfilled.

"Tsuzuki-san?" Muraki filled his voice with his best good natured tone. Tsuzuki squinted at him. "Don't you think it's time to leave?"

"No, I don't." The words were very carefully spoken and slightly stretched out; much concentration had gone into properly forming them. "It's still early."

"You're drunk." Muraki kept his voice kind and firm, burying any trace of irritation.

"Not yet." Tsuzuki leaned towards Muraki, barely preventing overbalancing by slamming one arm heavily into the bar. " 'Sides, you should want me drunk."

"Why should I want that?" Muraki caught himself before he pulled away from the quick, hot breath.

"If I'm drunk, I might forget who you are. Might not care." Tsuzuki leaned closer, half-falling into a kiss. It was clumsy and heavy; Muraki would have believed Tsuzuki had simply fallen on him if the kiss hadn't been quite so ...hungry. The desperation had a taste sweeter than grapefruit, harsher then vodka. Muraki stood and let Tsuzuki fall back, steadying the death god with one hand.

"This is a public place, Tsuzuki-san." He scolded. Not too harshly, though. It wouldn't do to dampen Tsuzuki's enthusiasm.

"And how many of these people are you ever going to see again?" Tsuzuki gestured widely, encompassing the denizens of the dingy bar. They were not the sort of people Muraki would associate with, even at work. They were not fit company for him or his dark angel.

"That is not the point." Smiling ever so slightly, Muraki led a surprisingly complacent Tsuzuki out of the bar and into a dark alley.

Once they were off the street, Muraki felt a pull at his arm. He turned back to Tsuzuki, the slightest hint of a questioning smile on his face. It wouldn't do to appear annoyed, either. The smile slid into a look of shock as it was his turn to fall into a kiss. Be dragged into, rather. His hand had been on Tsuzuki's arm, he now found the other man's hands were clinging to him. Holding him it this improper position in this disgusting place. He pushed Tsuzuki down hard, pinning him against the dirt-caked wall.

"But…I thought…" Tsuzuki's words came as awkwardly as his breaths, his eyes wide and helpless.

"We need to be out of sight so I can cast the teleportation spell." Muraki was insulted Tsuzuki would think he woulddo... well, _anything_ in such a filthy place, but he covered his irritation. He stepped back and Tsuzuki slid down the wall, sitting amidst the trash while Muraki prepared the spell. Muraki couldn't finish fast enough.

When the cast was complete, he pulled Tsuzuki close, holding him as the world around them shifted. Gone was the dark, dirty alley, replaced with the smooth walls of his bedroom. Muraki sneered at the apparent eagerness; normally (as if that word could have been applied to the circumstances) he would have brought Tsuzuki to the kitchen, soothed the man with food or drink and only then led the way towards the bed. Teleporting directly into the room was so… unsubtle. But Tsuzuki was oddly eager and Muraki did not consider the kitchen table any more appropriate than that alley. Covering his distaste, he smiled at his beloved.

"They're white." Tsuzuki tried to move away from the bed, but could barely back up before his whole body was pressed against Muraki. "The sheets are white."

"Indeed." Tsuzuki wasn't making sense, but Muraki ignored the words. His own trench coat already discarded, he slid Tsuzuki's off the man's shoulders. With a slight awkwardness, he pulled the coat out from between them and tossed it on the bed. Without quite realizing, his mind drifted into faint nostalgia for the old-fashioned kimonos Oriya wore, gentle fabrics that allowed full access to skin without the necessity of completely undressing. Though, in this case, perhaps only complete nudity would do.

"I'll get it dirty." Tsuzuki sounded almost panicked.

"Hopefully, Tsuzuki-san, you won't be solely responsible." A slight hint of the frustration that had been building leaked into the words. That was not the way to woo such a delicate creature as his Tsuzuki. Charm with a hint of force, not sarcasm, would better serve. He spun the smaller man around and firmly held his shoulders. A gentle pressure pushed the backs of Tsuzuki's knees against the edge of the bed, suggesting the possibility of them bending. Tenderly, he brushed his thumb along Tsusuki's cheek, tracing the paths of the now flowing tears. "Amazing, you look so beautiful when you cry."

"You…you could have fucked me and left me in the alley. I don't deserve this." Tsuzuki's voice shook. This talk was becoming tiring. The greater pleasure to be had from Tsuzuki, breaking him, was past. There was only the lesser pleasure, and he was tired of waiting.

"No, you don't see, my love. I am exactly what you deserve." The gentle pressure became a harsh push and the moon turned red in pleasure.


	2. Afterglow

um... Muraki-sensei made me do it. He all but wrote this himself. I really, really hope never to write about these two again. If anyone would like to take the 'good' doctor out of my head, please do.

* * *

He moved beneath the sheets, stretching his oh-so-slightly sore muscles. He would hardly say he was happy, but at that moment he felt quite content. Exercise was truly good for the soul as well as the body. Slowly, he rose to a sitting position, casually reaching for a cigarette. He was startled to notice his exercise partner was hastily grabbing clothes and stumbling out of bed.

"Leaving so soon, Tsuzuki-san?" His words were slow and his smile playful, but the hand that grabbed the other man's wrist was quick, and the force with which he pulled was strong enough that Tsuzuki fell back onto the blankets.

"But..you...uh..." Tsuzuki stammered. Eloquent as ever.

"Don't you think it's rude to rush off?" He scolded gently. Truthfully, he had planned on dismissing him shortly; he certainly didn't want to pass time out of the bedroom with his new pet. But he didn't enjoy being pre-empted. Not by anyone.

"I...I'm sorry." Tsuzuki sat on the bed, fingers nervously toying with his clothes. Muraki leaned over and pushed the clothes onto the floor, causing Tsuzuki to flinch. Was it only minutes ago the man was leaning into his every caress, contorting his body for greatest effect, begging for the emptiness in him to be completely filled... Well, he supposed he couldn't be faulted in that respect.

"You wouldn't need to apologize so often if you were more considerate in the first place." Muraki smiled as he spoke, knowing how easily he could command this pet. Tsuzuki blushed and continued to study the pattern of the blanket.

"I...I thought you'd want me to... I mean... no one..." Another incomplete sentence, although the thought was communicated well. Breifly, Muraki wondered who had trained his Tsuzuki into a passionate bed partner who barely waited to come before going? Truly, the man would have served well for one-night stands. Physical pleasures with no consequences. But as good as sex was, Muraki was all about consequences. He lived for them.

"Hush." He laid his hand firmly over Tsuzuki's mouth as he considered what to do next. Dismissal was most convenient, but not just yet. He didn't want to 'cuddle' or any of those things one did with lovers. Tsuzuki was not his lover. Tsuzuki was his toy and one either played with toys or discarded them. Muraki smiled, allowing a hint of his plans to show in his expression. Really, he had no choice in the matter.

Roughly, Muraki shoved Tsuzuki down. He heard a sharp crack as the man's head struck the wall and felt the rush of air when Tsuzuki gasped into his hand. Surprise, pain,pleasure, it didn't matter. Tsuzuki's eyes were still fearful, but they'd lost the confused look; replacing it with a twisted eagerness Muraki was beginning to dislike. The horrorfied anticipation angered him, made him feel as though he were the one being used, and his rage coloured each rough caress. It had to hurt, but Tsuzki's bruises were healed almost before Muraki could move his hands. It encouraged more violence, but with the same effect. The joys of an unbreakable doll were quickly burried the lack of damage that could be done to it. No risk makes for little fun.

This time, Tsuzuki didn't quickly creep from the bed. He remained nervously silent as Muraki lit the cigarette he'd discarded early, shifting his eyes from the blanket to the floor, anywhere but Muraki. To be so deeply feared was far more thrilling than being loved. He enjoyed the twitching from the corner of his eye through half the cigarette.

"Ah, how rude of me!" Muraki casually exhaled so the smoke would drift just below Tsuzuki's face. "Do you want a cigarette, Tsuzuki-san?"

"Uh..no thanks." Muraki smoked for a couple of minutes, pretending to ignore Tsuzuki fidgeting. Much more amusing that way. Reaching the filter, he stubbed out his cigarette and looked up, eyes widening in apparent surprise.

"Oh, you can go now." He knew the icy color of his eye perfectly complimented the dismissive tone. Tsuzuki jumped, then obediently gathered up his clothes.

"Eh, well,..." Dressed, Tsuzuki fumbled for the appropriate words. Muraki found it disturbing. He hoped the man wasn't developing a crush.

"Do you still hate me, Tsuzuki-san?" It would have been a shame if one night of sex left this doll unwilling to play their game later.

"Yes."

"Good." Muraki picked up a medical journal that had been lying on his end table and pretended to read while trying to decide if sex with Tsuzuki was worth Tsuzuki.

He heard his front door slam shut and smiled.

* * *

Muraki-sensei wants reviews. He may get violent if he doesn't get any. If he kills you for not reviewing, I am not responsible. 


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